


The Violence Duet

by alzahar, nxmorefear



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom Hannibal, Bottom Will Graham, Circumcision, English, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, M/M, Top Hannibal, Top Will Graham, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-14 16:04:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7178858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alzahar/pseuds/alzahar, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nxmorefear/pseuds/nxmorefear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal and Will are about to find a new form of expression. It will bring them closer to that they feel each other. Blood, violence and eroticism.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Epithalamium

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [El dueto de la violencia](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6094112) by [alzahar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alzahar/pseuds/alzahar), [nxmorefear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nxmorefear/pseuds/nxmorefear). 



> Originally in Spanish. The start of this work is somewhat ambiguous because initially this was a role-play that started completely random but gradually gained consistence and meaning. Now remastered into a fic, I hope you don’t regret and enjoy the first part of this fic done by two people.
> 
> To help placing the reader in the beginning of this story, Hannibal and Will are in a kind of living room, it is not known where they are exactly in the planet. There are aspects that appear for no apparent reason, however it must be understood as the expression of the characters, not the logical sense of their environment.
> 
> Thanks for reading! And if you want to help with the translation, you’re very welcome. I’m aware this translation may not be the best, but we’d like to improve it as much as we can.

"Will, where did your beard go?"  
  
"Well, I was trying. Did you want to shave me?"  
  
"Yes, as a sign of confidence. I can not see that you've done a very well job. You have blood on the cheek." He approached him and licked his jaw discreetly.  
  
"................." Will had still many hair on his chin; he was terrible. "........... Did you just lick me? ................. If you want, you can finish perfecting my shave."  
  
"I could not help it. You look awful." Hannibal downplayed what he just did, enjoying the flavour of the blood for a while. He took the razor and foam shaver. "Sit down."  
  
".................." It was complicated not to have thousand questions, but in the end he approached a chair and sit on it. ".... Be careful ... ..."  
  
"I'll have to shave you completely. You left everything uneven." Hannibal recoated his hair regrowth with foam. "Calm down, Will. If I make a cut, believe me, it will not be by mistake."  
  
"That doesn't reassure me at all." Will raised his chin, finding in Hannibal a look that he couldn't decipher. "Then I will express myself properly. I hope you don't want to cut me... please."  
  
Hannibal smiled in enjoyment by the way in which Will expressed himself. Gently, he held his front to immobilize him and began to shave with the knife, under the jaw.  
  
"No, I do not want to cut you. Do you feel calmer now?"  
  
"I am calm, but I have seen your priorities change with great speed." Will left his mouth ajar to feel the touch of the knife on his skin, it was strangely pleasant. The Lithuanian took special care on it, following the curvature of the surface.  
  
"You can trust me, Will; I always keep my promises." Although such words were covering many nuances.  
  
Will was not sure that talking was a good idea at that moment, so he just looked at him with some nuance in his blue eyes.  
  
"....... That's... true."  
  
Lecter gave him a smile before continuing shaving him, gradually letting him tilt the head forward. Then he tilted to the lateral occasionally when Hannibal moved the used foam away. Will let him put his head in the necessary positions so his skin could be perfectly taut and get a perfect shave.  
  
"... It's relaxing..."  
  
"That's because I'm doing well." Hannibal said as he made some coats through the upper lip, concluding the finishing touches. "Sometimes I go to the barber shop for this very reason. And always with barber razor."  
  
"It seems more a luxury... It doesn't usually annoys me to get three days' growth of beard...." It was necessary to move the lip to help him. Will had to admit that the sound was making his hair stand on end slightly. "But it doesn't surprised me; you take care of your phisical appearance meticulously."  
  
"Taking care of the appearance is important. What would happen with the wolf that doesn't camouflages within the flock?" Hannibal shaved the lip hair skillfully until he felt the softness in the absence of sound. He cleaned the razor and went on with his sideburns.  
  
"Do you consider yourself a wolf? I see you more like the fox guarding the chickens, but everybody sees you as a harmless animal." Will tilted his head to one side, looking at the contrary from the corner of his eye. "You care in a very meticulous way, you has your hands softer than my face."  
  
"The wolf in sheep's clothing. What more harmless than believing live with a fellow? What do you consider yourself, Will?" Hannibal shaved the hair at ear medium height; then he did the same on the other side. "You can always ask me to shave you. Don't make such a mess the next time."  
  
"You know? This is extremely sensual....." And after their last supper, Will was more susceptible. "Do you fantasize about killing me, Hannibal?"  
  
It was very daring to ask that with a razor on his neck.  
  
Hannibal paused and places his glance stood Will's expression, denoting more than just relaxation.  
  
"I fantasize about more than death." Hannibal couldn't lie in something that may take them to another level. Smiling, Hannibal checked impeccably the corners of hair that had been left.  
  
"Have you thought about the taste of my flesh? You might..." Will's right hand raised up to the other that was shaving his skin so carefully. "... acquiesce in mixing my blood with one of your desserts."  
  
A very slight pressure caused a tiny cut, whereby a crimson thread instantly decorated the young man's neck.  
  
"What do you think will be my taste?"  
  
Lecter's coppery eyes stopped at the red that dripped down his neck, inspiring that engaging and metallic smell. He didn't want to cut him, but Will took charge of his 'error'.  
  
"Not like Mischa's, but carefully and intensely glorious." Hannibal move the razor away and the forefinger of his other hand dragged the thread of blood along its entire length, in a delicate caress, until the place where it came from. His finger, now soaked with thick liquid, attracted by its smell.  
  
"I'm sure I don't have the characteristic taste of fear. What did you say? Bitter..." Will was focused on the psychiatrist's gestures. He wet his lips, enjoying the path that the tip of his tongue made on the edge of his teeth and lips, wondering whether he had to be the first who savored Lecter's own finger.  
  
"Bitter and stale." Hannibal completed the memory of that flavour, delighting in the taste that Will would possess in exchange. Slowly the bloody finger, retaining as much blood as possible on the tip, was placed at the height of Will's nostrils. "How would you describe the smell of blood?"  
  
Will approached the nostrils without touching the finger, and tried to smell the aroma, which was hard. But he failed to capture more than a nuance, like an iron hint.  
  
".... It may be sweet .... But ...." Will opened his mouth and sucked Hannibal's finger, picking up his own blood with his lips, now slightly stained. ".... It's sweet ..."  
  
Hannibal knew that Will had his sense of smell so exercised, so he could not determine anything specific. The act of suction surprised him, causing on him a state of relaxation and admiration at the same time. He licked his lips under the Will's watchful eye, keeping the words in his mind.  
  
"Do you know what that means?" Slowly Hannibal's hand anchored around Will's neck, covering the wound; his gaze spoke for himself, wanting to press and bathe in the sweetness of his blood.  
  
"What does it mean?" Will whispered, raising his chin in a clear invitation. He exposed his neck, surrender to the full willingness and desire of the Lithuanian. His chest swelled, being very clear the sound of his lungs when they filled. "Do you fear for me? Or do you fear that is not what you expect?"  
  
Hannibal feared more than Will could imagine. The doctor, who was rapt in his own mental image, felt the blood soaking his fingers, but the bleeding had already stopped.  
  
"You have entire capacity to deceive me." Hannibal confessed while he placed the razor just below Will's protruding nut in a very delicate way. Then he stuck his cheek on Will's right side to whisper. "Can concord be pretended by the taste of blood?"  
  
The cold touch of steel prompted the boy to swallow. He felt, without actually hurting him, how the blade stroked him. His pulse got momentarily flustered at the thought of being beheaded by the a simple pleasure.  
  
"You have the tools... the force... the chance... Just... a slight movement... and you could find out... find out by my taste... if it's possible..."  
  
The worst thing was that Hannibal felt that Will was able to deceive even in the physical plane. His empathy could convinced him to make him believe something that was not true. The idea of beheaded him was as appealing as bleak. The fact of the power he had over his life, everything that they had built; then finding him dead with another flavour, like Mischa's... Again influenced to betray himself. Hannibal was even more serene when he released the tool, just to rest his arm on Will's chest in a protective gesture.  
  
"I don't intend to find it out now."  
  
Of all the immense range of possibilities, among a thousand roads that he could choose... Will took the most bizarre. He separated his back of the backrest, standing up, and pushed Hannibal against the opposite couch. Will forced him to seat and he sat on his legs with his greatest insolence.  
  
"...." Will took the little knife, playing with it between his fingers. "....What if I taste yours....?"  
  
Besides that it was like a game of chess, one waiting for the turn of the other to proceed, Hannibal waited for Will to finish his time and give him space for his next throw. He didn't resist his unexpected move and, when he was sit under the body of the young man, just squinted slightly facing the razor, illuminating the choices that Will had in his hands.  
  
"I would only allow it if you drank every drop of it." Hannibal put a soft smile on his face, almost imperceptibly. Vanishing from that world knowing that he would be part of Will forever... It was placid thinking that end for him.  
  
"Disappearing inside me..." Words that could have another meaning, as these were sweetened with a tone that bordered on the syrupy.  
  
Will held the knife between his teeth and could see meticulously Hannibal's shave.  
  
"You started to neglect..." Sit astride the Lithuanian, Will approached the man, manipulating his cheeks. "Do you trust me enough to let me shave you?"  
  
In other circumstances, Will had not acted that way, but the circumstances and his fascination for the man...  
  
On the other hand, the question was difficult for Hannibal, knowing that razor shaving was almost an art and Will didn't handled it well according to their conversation. Still, Hannibal's head only thought about the way Will looked at him, his own hands slowly invading his personal space until reach exactly his groins, pressing with the thumbs.  
  
"You have to do it until the end." It was the only condition that Hannibal imposed, knowing it would be pleasant. Without moving his calm gaze away, Hannibal leaned his head backward, giving him a thousand opportunities, apart from shaving him. Will contracted his pelvic muscles because of such invasion. Under his clothes, his belly hardened, traveling from his body to the skin under Lecter's thumbs.  
  
"Until the end..." Will repeated his words, spreading the cream on his hands before stroking Hannibal's neck and cheeks, spreading evenly the warm foam over his skin.  
  
It was true that Will had no experience, but the slow movements and care to do it perfectly made up for it. His fantasies were lucid, closer than ever. The blade slid down his neck with the delicacy of a feather and Will kept glancing his eyes every few seconds, giving him a soft smile.  
  
"It is nice?"  
  
Hannibal's lungs were filled slowly of the constant atmosphere that were built in a haze of seduction and contingency. The blade slid smoothly and with the care of a child who wanted to do his job well done; perhaps he didn't want him to do so well when, as he pressed with his fingers, he would find himself sliding down the zipper, unbuttoning the button as well.  
  
"It's... pleasant." Hannibal replied with a picture of his crotch in mind, because at that moment he couldn't see his hand sleight, but he could imagine that his touch was causing the same effect in the other. "Do you feel it too?" His eyes were more aware of Will's, trying to read their expressions.  
  
Like the child that plays with his father to be an adult, shaving him for the first time. Absorbed in the path that the blade made on the skin and the cloth cleaning the debris of foam. Will stopped suddenly when he was aware of the elongated fingers of Hannibal, breaking the barrier of privacy.  
  
"It's hard not to feel it..."  
  
A mistake cost a tiny cut on his neck, causing a chain reaction on the young's trust. Hannibal took a deep breath when he noticed the sharpness of the knife penetrating his neck, exciting him with his own fantasy. Hungry eyes showed a peculiar brightness while Will fell under the imposed circumstance.  
  
".....My concentration is affected...." Will's chest swelled, feeling how blood burnt, crossing his bloodstream. The thumb moved the remaining foam away to clean the area and be able to touch Hannibal's wound with his lips. He sucked the flowing blood, feeling a frenzy taking over his mind.  
  
"You have to finish." Hannibal reminded him, leaving one hand on his crotch. He began to stroke it over underwear. The other hand landed softly on Will's nape, pulling him and fascinated by the heat of his lips. Red eyes were closed and Hannibal ended up feeling how Will was getting his little and alive parts.  
  
Hannibal's taste was intoxicating the young man as if it were a drug, coming to bite his neck, blinded by his own restrained and denied desires day after day. He let rest the bruised area and, on his lips, a faint crimson hue.  
  
"Are you aware that... in this way... it's more likely to make mistakes...?" Will said.  
  
Of course Hannibal was fully aware of what he caused. From the beginning he was gauging how much Will was able to endure the caresses without making a mistake. Certainly, he was surprised.  
  
Without daring to resume the task, Will felt his shoulders fell heavily, his eyes were caught by the placid feelings that Hannibal reveal to him.  
  
"Then would you prefer me to stop until you finish?" Perhaps he only wanted to tempt Will and keep the reflections or increase the number of possibilities that could arise from the decisions of both. "I will stop..."  
  
Hannibal stopped every fondling that Will's crotch received; it began to be felt strong. And Hannibal was still keeping his eyes toward the ceiling, ensuring a good space for the shave. Will pressed his lips, slightly feeling liberated from the suffocating feeling that caused Hannibal with the slight rubbings. Thus, the youngest man could hold the knife more firmly, without the excitement trembling his pulse.  
  
"I'll be careful..." Will held Hannibal's skin, tensing it to make retouches with the blade in a more hurried manner. Even without being petted, his heart got out of control as his organ swelled, being impossible to disguise his status under the opened clothes. The embarrassingly bulky boxer, the fisherman wasn't able to hide the generous phallus.  
  
"We've been a long time without touching each other... without being necessary to understand what we were... However... now..." Now Will, who never felt attracted to the same sex and still being that way, was irrepressibly intoxicated by who was under his body.  
  
Instead, there was no sign in Hannibal that aroused him physical reactions, at least not yet. His mind reveled in the grandeur of Will and how far he had come in to end up wanting sex. Lithuanian hands, which were hovering very slowly away from any erogenous zone, passed through his hips. He stuck his shirt out under his trousers and took advantage to touch the bare skin every time that he found pleasant a dangerous touch with the razor. Gradually he was bending his head forward, at last contemplating the expression of utter exaltation of Will; his blood stained lips evoked the same stimulus in Hannibal, exciting him and turning his body into boiling water.  
  
"Our necessity to express ourselves in a more elevated level..." Hannibal breathed, waiting for Will to finish the shave; a wait that turned torturous until his body awakened, something that he could perceive if he looked down. "...We spent much time motivating the pain, Will."  
  
The silence after the end of the movements of Hannibal was the only thing felt by them, besides the warm breath that his lungs threw out. The blade finished every corner of Lecter's skin under the watchful eye of the young, focused on not making any cut... Furtive glances escaped when Will thought that Hannibal did not realize, in an attempt to ignore what was caught between his girded boxer.  
  
To level the condicions, Graham couldn't seduce him as an ordinary man. Using a damp towel, the fisherman was removing the remains of foam from Hannibal's face.  
  
"Pain and violence have become part of our routine..." Will opened his own shirt, revealing a torso that wasn't necessary to be shaven. "...Blood, like fire, forged our friendship... Blood..." He placed the blade on his chest, making a clean cut which began to sprout blood, falling across his skin; as if it caressed his dermis. "A part of you in me, a part of me in you..."  
  
The Lithuanian's glance couldn't express more gratitude and complacency. Will turned himself in to Hannibal as if he were in his place, loving him in the more warped way possible. The vertical path of blood caught the attention of Hannibal's coppery eyes until they reached the height of one of his hands. It slid to stop the dripping blood, with the ring finger forward and following the path upward. At that precise moment, the older was in another grade of satisfaction, aesthetically appreciating Will's naked torso, as if it was carved in marble, a warm and bleeding marble.  
  
The finger reached to the outbreak of the liquid and pressed to make it bleeding; Hannibal almost wished to put his finger and rummage inside the wound.  
  
"The part that you deliver is greater than mine now..." Something that he would have to compensate in the next few moments. Hannibal licked his lips, chest shaking impatiently, and ended up dragging Will's body to the surface of the sofa, where he left him some space to take him down. Hannibal took place between his legs and slightly above him. "I would water you of all my blood, Will..."  
  
Hannibal wondered if he would be able to make him bleed to die.  
  
Finally he snatched the razor and leapt on Will's lips, yearning for their metallic taste, almost hungry.  
  
Red stained Will's breast skin in seconds when Hannibal's fingers pressed on the court.  
  
"I would drink until the last drop, just for the pleasure of knowing that a part of me always be with you."  
  
His fitted waist between the legs of the fisherman, the curves formed in the recumbent posture perfectly matched. Will lifted his neck looking for the same contact, bringing his hands around Hannibal's waist and back. That heady moment where he lost in his own desires, empathizing with Lecter's pleasure itself. He endorsed the desire for violence, biting his lower lip until it bled.  
  
"You must ask... just... enjoy what is presented so voluntarily."  
  
Graham wanted to feel spilled, that Hannibal drank from him, and anointed Lecter's thin lips with one of his fingers, hoping the beast was released; starting with such decontrol would kill them.  
  
Hannibal, who had fitted his pelvis against Will's, had begun to rub the cloth that separated the real touch, in an attempt to keep their erections in the middle of that intimate covenant. What took place on their lips was not a simple kiss that sought satisfaction, but the full expression of it. The Lithuanian responded to the bite with a deep sigh in the throat, urging him to make swaying and vehement movements against Will's obvious member. But that couldn't be compared with the blood that fed the feeling of wanting to inside of him, forming part of him forever. Hannibal gasped when he separated from the intimate contact, staring into his eyes as Will's fingers encouraged him with so glorious gift. It wasn't necessary to speak. With an energetic movement, the doctor stabbed the razor in the back of the sofa before starting to put his finger in the pectoral wound very slowly, accompanying the caress on the lips. Hannibal wanted to see Will's expressions draw in his face as he regaled him as much pain as pleasure.  
  
Will's body cradled under the weight of the Lithuanian, moving gently on the couch with the unique sound of his breathing, in response to such intense situation. Daring, with a finger, a daring finger was drawing the profile of Hannibal's lips very slowly. He couldn't deny that the razor act made his hair stand on end, being receptive when he entered the fingertip and fondle Lecter's teeth, teeth that could tear his flesh like butter. He separated the flesh from his lips at the same time Lecter separated his very slowly; intensifying the look without averting his eyes; Will would never do something like that. Hannibal would enjoy staring at him, watching a bizarre pleasure in the caused pain, how that pain stiffened the Will's phallus and a groan were expelled through his clenched teeth.  
  
Hannibal didn't know what was exactly the word to describe that aroused feeling at that time, something very like an admiration, a high feeling of adrenaline that approached the summit of his sinister ideal claims. His eyes were hard over the blue ones and his teeth, finally tempted by the caresses on his lips, caught the nearest fingers, squeezing just enough with the need to tear them apart. Now the free hand marched to Will's pants and underwear. Briefly Hannibal stopped his swinging movements to get rid of the clothes that bothered. He had to spit in his fingers reluctantly and moved away from between his legs to do so, but it didn't take half a minute to undress him.  
  
At that moment, in the available space between each other where they didn't touch, the maroon only was visible, Hannibal grabbed his penis with force, between the fingers that were digging the chest wound before. He dyed and seasoned his member in his own blood, but he still wanted to continue watching him, pleased to be the cause of so many incitement.  
  
A shared feeling that his intentions were reflected in Lithuanian's eyes, naughty and smiling, Will moved the last finger phalanx, stroking his spongy tongue. He had it in his mouth seconds before, covering every corner and screwing his own in an endless battle for control. His clothes disappeared so fast that he was pleasantly surprised by Hannibal's speed to do so, showing that he wasn't the only one who was dominated by his basic impulses. Hannibal stopped him as a master to his dog when he gives an order, in this case, by trapping his swollen member.  
  
Will lying with his open legs and leaning on his elbows, he felt how his body was shook, again pumping blood where Lecter's fingers were closed. His skin was burning, veins bulged under the phallus thin skin; containing himself during those seconds when Will really wanted to rise up and destroy his clothes. A need of physical contact, feeling Hannibal's skin close and seeing what it could offer... He wasn't sure they were his own thoughts, covering his body with teeth marks and fuck on the pool of any rude blood.  
  
He grabbed Hannibal's wrist and, very slowly, that hand was causing a sweet purr in the young man.  
  
The time wasn't to get lost and everything was written in Hannibal's mind, where Will Graham would eventually end up snatching him any rational thought. That was the idea from the beginning, detaching from reality to express his vivid emotions in the only way he knew. Hannibal knelt on the floor slowly, shifting back between Will's bare legs. His lubricated hand perceived the palpitations, almost looking like they were going to the rhythm of Will's gasps. And he couldn't risk more time until blood got cold and dry beneath his fingers; Hannibal approached the tip to his mouth, uncovering the glans with a pull back. The tongue prepared his lips and his captive look reminded Will who he was at that moment. Then the breath used to speak stroked the exasperated member.  
  
"In some cultures, men express their commitment, his union with another person, by circumcision." Hannibal explained with a deep sense, almost as an indirect request. He didn't expect more than a response, before proceeding accordingly or not to the acr. If only Will was prepared to dedicate himself to him...  
  
Their relationship were forged with blood. It required sacrifices, sacrifices voluntarily given, or at least that's what all those around the psychiatrist believed. Behind the mask, behind his person suit, Will was able to see the being that, between his legs, made him lose his mind. Breath on his flesh urged the younger to be unable to control his breathing. Erratic and irregular, he threw his breath out of his lungs, shaking his painted torso and belly with the color of his own blood. Words were not able to flourish after such unusual and request disguised as a compromise. Will's lower lip trembled slightly at the thought, but far from feeling pain, the fear that he felt went beyond the physical. Hannibal asked such a gesture of trust, in exchange for their physical safety. Again, he claimed him to be his skin canvas on which their memories would be marked.  
  
His trembling hand landed on Lithuanian's cheek, and his thumb walked on his lips, separating these to observe those canines that could destroy him.  
  
"......" Will just nodded, what at first seemed a negative. He closed his eyes, taking oxygen to inflate his lungs. "...An act of trust and reciprocity..."  
  
Of course, whatever happened... Will, like Lecter, would act accordingly. If a opportunity was given.  
  
Seconds of concentration for the Lithuanian, who defined the figure of Will as if it were a painting. He appreciated the light, shadows, like a chiaroscuro of his anatomy; blood gave him the meaning, the symbolism of memories, and moved it to the immensity of his memory palace. The agreement culminated his work and Hannibal was filled with the air that fueled his organs, a sublime and ethereal feeling.  
  
Slowly, with Will's approval, the older reaffirmed the fastening with both hands. Firstly he shook his penis to give him a moment of pleasure, the same pleasure that Will gave him with a simple nod. And, after a few short seconds that Hannibal promised everything, he pulled his foreskin to him. His fingers tightened it enough to calculate the portion of skin that would take from him.  
  
"Our epithalamium..." As if Hannibal could transmit the rapture that shook him, he uttered the contaminated words with the fondest desire to tie him, to be tied to him. He didn't wait more and his incisors approached the foreskin diagonally, making the first tear, as clean as the blood that began to flow, watering his lips with the life that united them. Then a yank came and separated the two live parts; one bleeding and the other finding its place through Hannibal's throat. Regardless of Lithuanian's thought at the time, it was closer to happiness than his own pleasure of having completed his design.  
  
"Epithalamium..." Will whispered with some difficulty, repeating his words and succumbing to the fleeting pleasure Hannibal gave him in an instant. Time slowed when he noticed the moist breath permeating his so sensitive skin. He breathed through his mouth, clinging to the cloth that covered one of his shoulder. Will had pacted with the devil and the price to pay was his soul; it didn't take too long to be charged. Hannibal's teeth marked the flesh of the young and, in response to the amputation, a sound of pure pains bore of his throat. Pungent, it went through his whole body, breathing with clenched teeth. A hoarse sound filled the room and culminated with watering eyes because of the distressing feeling.  
  
"...Ha... Hannibal...!!" Blood oozed and trickled between his inner thighs, decorating Will's intimacy and dripping to the floor, where Lecter was kneeling; his shaking chest drove crazy, with such force that the grabbed clothes under his fingernails cracked. "... Ha... Ha...... Blood... We started... Blood... is forged...  
  
"... It forges and starts a new phase.  
  
Hannibal's fingers gripped around the phallus, making enough pressure so the bleeding didn't become more serious; he stopped it in any case and Will just had to suffer his condition under the supervision of the elder. Blood soaked completely every near mutilated area, especially Lecter's lips, which didn't stop being caressed by his tongue, in a repeated attempt to make his crimson liquid be apart of him. There wasn't more pleasure than tasting the sweet blood that trickled down from the scar; his impatient mouth landed on the discovered glans spoil him if there was a possibility that Will's body still were seduced by the excitement and fervor of so intimate and aggressive union. The only language understood by Hannibal, the only one he could talk to feel the purest meaning of his emotions. Will's gasps and moans sounded in his ears as acceptance and commitment, his wishes fulfilled and relief after the pain, being at last the passionate metamorphosis.  
  
Until then, the frivolous fellatio rewarded his anguish. Hannibal absorbed every drop of garnet flow that smeared him until it disappeared, without knowing what blood was his or of the other.  
  
The grip on Hannibal's shoulder was transformed into a caress, fingers lost the strength to shake him or even stand. With the impossible sensation of feeling his flesh inside of Hannibal, Will could feel closer, connected with the Lithuanian as never before; his vision blurred, succumbing to the bloody view that, between his legs, was drawn as the unfinished Lecter's symphony. He was assuring its conclusion.  
  
"My blood... draws on your lips... red... crimson... my body..." Will's face was turning pale as his fluids left his body. Again, Will was in the hands of a man who didn't hesitate to circumcise with his own teeth. "W... Will you deny me my life....?"  
  
His forehead was covered with sweat. It caused that his frizzy hair stuck on his forehead. The young man was frightened by the possible answers, frightened by an affirmative answer.  
  
Slowly the height of their union waned with the gradual loss of blood, almost resembling a calm that followed the orgasm. Instead, Hannibal hadn't given him any moment of truce. Will's voice sounded like a faint whisper, panting and shaking, of a wounded animal. At that moment the question was whether the elder wanted to be soaked by the full essence of his now counterpart or, on the contrary, would retract.  
  
Lecter's glance, coppery like blood, smudged his lips and jaw and looked at Will silently as he left the intimate skin in a gesture of peace. Then his hands made their way to his belly, marking it with his own blood, before rising and leaning forward him again. Hannibal had rested one knee on the surface of the sofa and his arms locked the pale body, shortening distances between their glances.  
  
"Denying you your life would be like abandoning myself forever." That was agreed, they said so and he made know so from his lips. "No... I won't."  
  
Will maintained a stoic composure, despite the lost blood and the obvious wince, which was close to a warped pleasure that he only could get empathizing with the Lithuanian. He showed no more than mild, spasmodic gestures, and a torrent of sweat emanating from his body.  
  
"You don't claim my life... but my soul... You make it yours... But it always... must be..." His hand groped the knife still stuck on the coach and, with surprising speed, this ended stabbing Hannibal's torso. Will didn't want to kill him, in no way; he made sure any vital organs got hurt, but he wanted his fluids to fall over his naked body. "...reciprocal..."  
  
Will dropped the knife to place both hands on the deep gash and see how drops bathed his body.  
  
".... It's beautiful..."  
  
The knife, which had been futile by the emanations of a warped capricious passion, became a crucial tool; Will punished Hannibal's actions. And Hannibal wouldn't have left so close to him if he wasn't so curious about how Will would use it.  
  
The razor's blade penetrated the skin beneath the sternum, almost catching his liver or stomach, but there was no intention to kill him. Quickly Hannibal interpreted it as an act of reciprocity and not an act of revenge. His fists clenched when the pain became sharp around his whole body; his breathing stirred and his eyes narrowed at the sudden watering brightness. A faint smile of complacency decorated it.  
  
Will's words, although they bled with their own lives, made him closer. A moment of peace that had never been felt so intensely, so near of death.  
  
"This is all I ever wanted this for you, Will..." Slowly Hannibal felt how his own body were emptied by Will's wishes. With a delicate gesture, Hannibal stroked his cheek, admiring the view of his analog and getting lost in it, as if he had no conscience.  
  
Slowly Will's left arm caught Lithuanian's neck until being surrounded by a hug that forced him to descend upon him. The heat emerging of Hannibal's body was enveloped by his own blood, cherishing it, according to the plasma that spread through him. The face rested on his collarbone, his eyes narrowed to hide the faint smile.  
  
"... The pain disappears..." He felt like falling, how the vacuum pulled him and dragged him away from everything. Will only could cling to Lecter. Again, his oars, the lighthouse that guided him back home. He clung to him, turning his knuckles white because of the pressure until the time he stopped; and the arm that embraced his neck went limp around the man.  
  
The weight that pulled him over his body, Hannibal remained lying on him, making pressure on the wounds. They began to overwhelm blood in a dangerous way. His face found very near place on Will's ear, sheltering and instilling sighs of weakness; his fingers still caressed him, finding protection in other's heat, between the graceful embrace. Then the silence filled them with its touch to make them lose track of the physical plane. They could die perfectly there, surrounded by the summit reached through the blood, as a pact upon their souls. Now without knowing how to continue after completing everything he had yearned in life. Was there still a purpose? Hannibal knew what that meant for him, for Will.  
  
He closed his eyes and sheltered in Will's weak breathing, feeling under his fingers the feeble pulse of him. He felt how the tide dragged him with his counterpart inevitably, with his last memory: the most intense and pure memory that had ever imagined.  
  
Will imagined death as cold, lonely, shrouded in darkness. Far from those fantasies in which he abandoned himself to death, far from the cold solitude, Hannibal's presence was constant, warm, it didn't allow his body to be abandoned. Will's lips reacted again, catching whiffs of air directly for his lungs, stroking his parched lips.  
  
"...." Taking his fingers to be attached to the back like a request for help. "You didn't demanded my life... I need your help... Hannibal... please..."  
  
That ethereal moment in which Hannibal saw himself floating in the middle of the ocean with the only heat of Will's body. Everything became dark, heaviness became light and Hannibal stopped feeling himself. His breathing grew heavier at times, next to Will, who clamored to continue living in that life. The elder hissed near his ear in a very smooth way, as if he pretended to calm that fear. Death was not the definitive end, but he understood his fear when it was obvious what was coming.  
  
And suddenly, Hannibal's fingers marched to the chest wound, blood still flowed from it slowly. He pressed to make blood come out with more intensity, having Will's destiny at the complete mercy of Hannibal.  
  
"Let the kiss of death lead you to peace... Wide into darkness, Will... by my side." Hannibal murmured as death seducing him to let go, at the same time seeking his fading under his fingers; that was the only way to save himself, accepting the outcome.  
  
Lessons that, even in the end, Hannibal still showed to the young man as if he was his apprentice. Patient as a father, correcting behaviors that he considered wrong. And now his resistance was wrong. The experienced pain broke to let more bloodstream leave from his wound.  
  
"Hanni...bal..."  
  
Eventually, fear showed up, unable to simply surrender to the fatal end. Lecter was able to create pure poetry from death and tearing his last efforts to remain at earth plane. His latest effort was devoted to surround Will's body, to hold the one that Hannibal snatched his last heartbeat. Will inspired for the last time, throwing his last gasp with the end of his pulse, thereby stopping life left in him.

  



	2. Awakening

Hannibal saw those last words as the last gasp of that life, which allowed him to merge with the metaphysical idea of death, approaching it as much as he could to absorb its meaning. Dying physically wasn't in his plans, Hannibal had the option of greening of one state to one more glorious, like butterfly's metamorphosis. Although Will showed clear signs of death, it didn't occur immediately after the loss of consciousness by exsanguination; he had only a very few minutes to stop the bleeding and wait for the body to regain its vitality, if it came at all...

Cool to the touch, pale and hardly no vital signs, the elder gathered all his strength to rise, covering the wounds with his own hands and pieces of garment as he could obtain more sophisticated means. It was not an easy task to fight for them two to stay alive. It was the second part of the great gift that would be given to Will for such a tender dedication and confidence. Hannibal had to take stock of his surgical skills, always ready for moments like these. He drew up the first wounds of both, coating them with dressings and bandages as final detail. At least the Lithuanian would survive, but Will... At that time, he only had to wait his critical condition to decrease and tuck him into his own nest, pampering him and waiting life to grow and fill his body. That space, the reawakening of Will, was to be the haven of peace likened to the embrace of a mother who showered him protection and dilection. The background piano, which gave music to the first memory, sounded like a piece of Debussy and harmonized the white bedroom, lit with the clarity of a semi sunset. Hannibal's presence was nil in the room, but there was an air of him, of his design.

Nothing. All around Will was just empty. An emptiness that he enjoyed life, wearing the same suit as Hannibal, but much worse undisguised. Will restricted himself to exist merely, floating as an entity that hardly bloomed in the presence of his dogs. All of that changed when suddenly a man entered in his life and foiled his entire structure. Tearing down his walls and getting him out of his insulation to isolate him again for their own personal enjoyment and companionship. That should be the death, quiet, peaceful or the hell itself; since a figure created by shadows and nightmares of his mind haunted him. He recognized himself in a figure protected by a major one behind it, holding its shoulders.

Fear, adrenaline, his brain began to secrete substances as a defense. The sound of a piano was heard in the distance, but the figures didn't attack. They seemed to... receive him. Another strong tremor, another injection again making that melody became clearer. The silhouettes of those beings took more definite forms. And before losing contact with that reality, Will was completely sure thet were none other than themselves. Like the phoenix, engulfed in flames and pain, refusing to succumb and aided by the undeniable talent of Hannibal; the music was the only guide that brought the young man back to reality. The vision he had when he opened his eyes was so idyllic that he believed himself dead. Will didn't speak; he only heard those notes, which brought him calm and acceptance in complete ignorance.

Everything was perfectly placed in that room; it was to be the first image of placidity that Will had to see when he wake up. A memory of peace and protection that entrenched him to the new and awaited life... with Hannibal. A few days had passed where the fisherman remained completely in an unconscious state, depending on Lecter's care as if it were the most precious thing he possessed, and that surely was the case.

With an apparent tiredness, the Lithuanian showed himself from the door of the room, finally checking the mild state of Will's consciousness. He entered quietly and calmly, with slow steps to serve Will after days of rest. The intravenous bag had nurtured his system and was almost empty; it was time to take that source away.

The music sounded like a sweet and dream memory, soothing the soul and avoiding a bad awakening.

Appearing beside Will, Hannibal occupied a small space in front of the curtained window, noting his presence as a shadow against the light. But as he approached, his figure was not so frightening. In the dresser, he filled a glass of water and grabbed it between his fingers. Then he sat next to his fellow; Hannibal held the glass close to Will's lips to make him drink from such a pure source of life.

"Are we dead?"

Will had a slurred voice, his throat felt rough when he spoke. That question caused by the effect of everything around him. A pleasant temperature, captivating music and almost Hannibal's angelic figure ahead of light.

With his help, he could sit up straight to drink.

"If we're not... I feel that way..." Will said.

Sedatives were still taking effect in the Will's body, keeping him a bit dazed but far away from the pain. It had been necessary to make the recovery more pleasant, but Hannibal wouldn't hesitate to inject him morphine if it were necessary.

"We were." Hannibal said as if he had been as close as Will from death; somehow, in different degrees of experimentation, it was so. "Is this what you imagined to find after your death?"

The Lithuanian left the empty glass on a small table, next to the bed. Then his eyes fell on the tired young, attentive and enraptured at the same time. Hannibal just needed to be involved in that created atmosphere, as if his own life were a work of art; it had been a gift to Will.

Limping and supported by his palms, Will rose again seeking support in Hannibal to sit against the headboard. The cures pulled his crotch, making him moan.

"Were we? I remember... I remember my bloodied body...

Will remembered the wound under Hannibal's breastbone and made the hint of lifting his shirt.

"You tore off a piece of me... The chest wound... But what I remember most clearly is..."

Will closed his eyes briefly again when he saw himself involved in this strange and pleasant sensation. Nothing mattered, feeling on the verge of death and seeking solace in Hannibal's arms.

"I... I'm not afraid... I am calm... If this had been what occupied after death, I had accepted it gladly."

Hannibal had tried to help him to settle on the headboard, but his wound hirt as well and he couldn't afford to make great efforts without finding a new bleeding. Will had been careful in not wanting to kill him. If it had been otherwise, it was very probably that they both were dead now.

"This is the gift I made to you." Hannibal explained superficially as he watched the contrary in this small state of memory.

Peace was etched on his face, as the calm water of a lake, reflecting the sky itself.

"Dying meant being reborn in another state of consciousness to leave behind the uncertainty of the past and mark the prelude." Hannibal added, wanting to place one of his hands next to Will, but he didn't do so.

In his mind, the union had meant much more than a beginning, also the commitment and what it entailed.

The idea of death and rebirth, as a phoeniz engulfed in blood and fire, forging his character and molding his soul, but not to something as different than it really was. Hannibal ensured that, after his 'death', Will had a revelation of what was really inside of him.

"I'm a little confused... When I thought myself dead... I saw myself reflected in a mirror... but what I saw wasn't what I was used to... It was a being... A being formed by...

A figure as much terrifying as Hannibal's shape that stalked him.

"..."

Will moved his hands to have the palms face up, and then these were moved around his own body recognizing his wounds.

"I don't feel like myself." Will confessed.

Elder's eyes perceived Will's movements, reading its meaning and what he was triying to find: the former Will's remnants, who withdrew into himself and kept his true self buried. Now he was facing that essence. With his help, it had sprouted from his chest as a blood form.

"You have undergone a metamorphosis, like a moth, and just found the light that guides you along the way." Lecter said with soft voice, similar to a poet, seeking to captivate with his lyric.

Hannibal finally decided to take one of Will's hands, but only he extended his arm and carefully removed the tract which was providing artificial food. Will now was conscious and he no longer need to depend on it.

"We never felt like ourselves against change, but this is what we desired."

"I need... I need to stand up."

Will uncovered himself, resting his hands on the bed to stand up. He noticed how the stitches pulled him, but he didn't care. He needed to get out, breathe some air. He neither knew where he was nor recognized the place.

Hannibal strove to create a dreamlike stay, like a womb, and return him to the rebirth itself. The difference was that there was no mother, but a man, a mentor, a friend that guided him until that very moment.

Only when Will stood, he put his arm on Hannibal's shoulders. The tension to help him to walk would be much lower than to raise him.

"I want to go outside..."

Even being barefoot and wearing a pajama —if it was a pajama—, the young's insistence was possibly due to feel again the world after his rebirth; everything should be new and captured it more intensely.

Hannibal, during the care he took to clean Will, made sure to put light and soft clothes, which kept him warm and didn't irritated his skin while the rest.

It was then that Lecter stood beside him, being somewhat careful in doing so. He offered to be that support for Will, ceding his shoulder and firmness to walk; the sedative, but no longer necessary, should still be blocking him certain mobility and strength. Gradually Hannibal was leading the way towards the exit room, and in turn across the sober and new corridor, to outside.

 


	3. Duet

The door paved the way for a quiet and lonely space, where the only sound that enveloped the ocean water was its crashing against the rocks. As they walked rhythmic, the Lithuanian tried to led him across the smooth surface of the perimeter until finding the illuminated side by the dusk. There he stopped beside a bench on which they could sit and watch the horizon, very near the cliff.

"Night will come soon."

In another life it would have been awkward to see him naked. Now Will felt different, as the way Hannibal indicated him, reawakened. All happened like a dream state, time passed slowly, enjoying the touch of such exquisite garments, the sun caressed his face once he walked outside. Will covered his eyes until they got used to the difference between the interior and exterior. He didn't want to sit.

"Where are we?"

Will wanted to approach the cliff, feeling the rising foam by the wind breaking waves against the rocks.

Hannibal ventured to bring him closer to the cliff, holding below his armpit, just as he understood by seeing Will walked until there.

"Away from the unintelligible." Hannibal exppresed. The sea wind hit them both as they were closer to the edge.

It was almost useless to say a particular location to express where they really were.

"We are returning to be alone, but this time being one."

At that moment, Hannibal tilted his head to look at Will, his profile illuminated by the twitlight. He almost smiled, glad of being beside him in the way he always wanted, understanding and accepting his nature, their nature.

For a moment Will was tempted to be carried by gravity, to close his eyes and feel himself dragged to the depths of the underworld. Even this attempt was made clear when he held onto Hannibal's neck and, with a look full of intentions, warned him of his thoughts.

"I don't think we had the same luck a second time ... even more when it wasn't luck, but a display of your skills." Will said.

Thoughts that had no place before, Lecter molded the young till he was unrecognisible. Ensuring that nothing he expressed were no more than his true thoughts.

And how not to grasp what Will conveyed with only gestures and glances? What was once a smile on Hannibal's mouth, slowly it faded away until it returned to a hieratic gesture, without expressing anything but the fatigue of his wounds.

'Do you want to surprise me again...?" he asked as his fingers gripped more strongly around Will's clothes. His coppery eyes walked accros a little path from Will's blue eyes to his lips, wanting to read his thoughts in his expression and weren't the same as the last time.

In those instants Hannibal wanted to keep him close, between his arms, and had never to let him go, never to see him away from him; neither of them could survive a real separation. And even knowing Will's intentions, Hannibal dreaded to think Will actually were capable of anything.

Will forced a laughter that accompanied with difficulties the clear waves crashing against the rocks. Moving his hand from Hannibal's neck, then his shoulders to the cloth covering his body.

"No, I could't surprise you again that way... The idea of disappearing, I think we've already got it... I don't even know where we are now..."

Will realized that standing for so long was devastating. His body was absorbing the morphine, but his legs struggled to hold the weight of his own body. It was a second in which the young man hesitated, hesitated by swinging under Hannibal's piercing gaze; to lean on him without even knowing with what intentions, remaining a few centimeters from his face. Inevitablely Will sank into Hannibal's collarbone.

"A defined limit doesn't exist between us... It has become blurred, confusing and fuzzy..."

Hannibal's hands slowly dragged along the thine clothes that harbored Will, reaffirming the grip he had on him. The breastbone wound began to suffer slowly to the force that helped both being on their feet. A call of the body suggested to sit down, relax, but it was not the time; Hannibal was so enraptured in the atmosphere Will created over him, that he couldn't spot the illusion with a passing comfort. A beautiful picture in which he reveled, reaching happiness.

His chest swelled when Will used his shoulder as shelter, responding with a caress thrown with his cheek against Hannibal's.

"It's... the moment, Will, for composing our future together."

Hannibal's grip no longer seemed only a prop, also an embrace with which he tried to convey real and absolute devotion, something he never dared to give someone. A gift that only Will had won with blood and pain.

"What we now see blurred, it will have a new definition."

With an unusual closeness he rarely had dedicated, Will didn't pretend to insult that gift of peace they were offering, neither prolonging nor shortening it earlier than necessary.

When those warnings appeared in their bodies, Will yielded to the need to take a break. Without much encouragement to get away or break off all contact, Will was the first to separate and take one of his own hands to Hannibal's chest wound.

"I need to sit down."

Because it would be too rude, but what hurt was whatever Hannibal had done in his penis to stop the bleeding. Whatever it was, it pulled to the point of having to pause the moment.

"I find it... even frightening you think of us... towards the future. And at the same time a great gift."

The fact that Will separated from his arms meant enough to Hannibal, who understood Will needed to take a break. He had also requiring a pause like that, without worrying to stop that little moment.

He helped Will to take seat on the bench they had only a couple of feet away; then he did the same with a contained sigh. When he flexed his legs to sit down, he noticed how the body was grateful, stopping the pain under the breastbone. At no time Hannibal wanted to show the wound ached and only his subtle sore eyes could reveal his condition.

"It's normal to perceive changes suspiciously."

Hannibal was sympathetic and, taking a slight breather, turned slightly toward the dark, extending a hand slowly to put it down gently on Will's nape, caressing the skin that wasn't covered by the fabric or his curly hair.

"Do you trust me, Will?" Hannibal began.

Attracted by the sound of the cliff, Will lost his gaze on the horizon in the wild Atlantic, his future waved as the waters smiting the rocks. The rubbing on his nape caught the boy's eyes, encountering an unusual Hannibal, who seemed unable to break physical contact.

"I think dying in your arms is a good definition of trust."

Will recalled the moment in which he tore Hannibal's flesh and blood covered his body, and he was curious. Like his belly showed a mark, Will wanted to see how it would be that he gave him. He descended along the buttoned shirt, undid it until he found the place where steel penetrated.

"Trust..." Using his knuckles, Will drew a circle around the suture. "...reciprocal and disinterested..."

Hannibal didn't react at all to the subtle caress or the unbuttoning, even the slight pain produced by finger pressure; his eyes still stared at Will's blue ones with a strange fascination. His fingers were still moving on his nape, although he reacted with a slight pinching because of the rubbing slightly bloodied suture.

Sometimes the habit of thinking of all the different timelines invited Hannibal to imagine how his counterpart's fingers penetrated between the points of the wound to rummage inside. Confidence was about Will not doing something like that for no apparent reason and at the same time he was curious about if Will's mind considered it. And if he did...

"Like the love given by a child." Hannibal went back to stock up with the word 'confidence', one that worked as a synonym of their unique union. "... Capricious at the same time, honest at the same time."

Hannibal's gaze was lost for a moment on Will's lips, his hand leaving the neck and placing on Will's collarbone.

"Sometimes honest... sometimes jealous..."

Will wasn't aware of that wolfish gaze falling upon him. He attracted by the coppery scent of blood, he felt how his knuckles was stained by the precious liquid. He finished opening Hannibal's shirt, leaving a flashing red line to the last button.

" _Lasciate Ogni speranza, voi ... ch'entrate._ " Will said.

A moderately acceptable accent, an appropriate quote for past experience. If he had to be guided by what indicated his senses, Will would never survived and now lived in a reality meticulously built by Hannibal.

The proximity which his body was caressed, attracted the attention of the young; such was his peace with which he had imbued that any of the fates concocted by the Lithuanian were attractive and appropriate.

"Anything can happen, you are aware of your own capacity... Even my... a real one... and it may be more appropriate."

Dante Alighieri in Will's lips placidly sounded like music. Despite the forced accent, Hannibal was able to understand every word. However, the chosen phrase penetrated hardly in his mind; the Vestibule of Hell of the Divine Comedy located in the current context. The Lithuanian could not look away, almost seduced, on the other hand, by Will's movements. The interpretation of the words was surreal in his head, because after all he exerted himself to provide, the translucency of a life... Will seemed to want to march to another way Hannibal hadn't attended.

The hand that stroked Will's shoulder slowly come back to his neck, this time to one side, to end up settling a thumb over Will's Adam's apple, feeling its movement when he swallowed.

"Is that what you want, Will...?"

His maroon gaze returned to the blue one, to realize how inconvenient was his desire to please him.

Will shook his head gently, allowing the slight pressure on his windpipe.

Death or suicide was not a choice in the young, not after what he lived, not after being reborn again in the arms of his executioner.

"A romantic idea, like falling into hell through different levels... I wouldn't find... It isn't exist..." Will amended the choice of words. "...There is no right level for us."

Will carried Lecter's hand all over his torso, descending until that same thumb was on his belly scar.

"It would be vulgar and boring, especially when so tacitly I rejected a maddeningly polite life."

Meanwhile, Will left the suture under the breastbone to continue along the psychiatrist's body. He perceived the dusk and its more vivid colors, his counterpart's velvety touch and physical contact so far rejected... like a drug. Hunched over Hannibal's neck, where it joined the clavicle, a corner where his scent was strong and intoxicating.

"You put part of you inside me... your taste, your appetite..."

Culminating the phrase, Will caught between his lips a fleshy part. On that occasion without limiting himself or being ashamed, because physically he showed what words couldn't.

"Now I see it with the clarity of someone who has crossed the veil and is at his side." Will whispered so close to Hannibal's ear that his lips caressed his earlobe.

Hannibal could have squeezed his throat and receive his entire life in a sample of his purest love. It was like repeating the cycle, as he did it with Mischa, it's just this time there wasn't a third party choosing the circumstances; only them deciding their own destiny. Hannibal found such outcome heartbreaking and at the same time beautiful in its meaning, but the loss would mark a milestone, like his sister's death caused in childhood. How to break a teacup that it came together already?

Hannibal's thumb moved away slowly, looking for its place among the dark hair with the other fingers. That grip was reaffirmed by the penetrating gaze as Will's intense words sealed every beating of his own heart.

Hell... that hell in which both would begin to impart their law in company and as one; their place was even above the devil, who couldn't escaped from the axiom of his own nature.

Every Will's breath beat him and responded with closeness; his chest swelling with the poem from his lips. Everything was becoming clear, where the fog faded their silhouettes. Hands slowly clinging to Will's body, Hannibal sighed in pure ecstasy, dragging his cheek gently against Will's. At last he could glimpse what was on the other side of the shade, the last and dark veil that hid most admirable of his being. And his injured lips slid down along the skin, slowly, until they rested just above the top of the corner of Will's lips.

"I contemplate you and I find myself naked in front of you without the weight of the veil. I don't know if it was my choice or you've made me take it off." Hannibal said.

And at that point, it didn't matter, because the decisions were already taken by both; not one over the other.

Acts of reciprocity in wich wounds and lies were tests and ways to measure the level of his involvement, the... love within friendship.

"Now I'm facing you, stripped of your person suit... baring your soul..."

And what wasn't his soul because, as an act of trust, slowly Will withdrew at the same pace of his words the garment that covered Hannibal's torso. His shoulders were visible when the shirt fell along his arms, gently sliding down his back.

"... And now I can see you..."

Beyond a simple sexual act, beyond the actual physical act, nudity like basis of rebirth and vulnerability. Will tried to be equal to Hannibal, therefore he didn't oppose any resistance to the Lithuanian's hands on his body.

"I see yout pain, your fear, your love, your sister always present in your actions..."

When he spoke, his lips brushed the other wounded ones, always scrutinized by his blue orbs; as if breaking eye contact would destroy the created atmosphere.

And as an analogy of his psychic nakedness, Will stripped him of his shirt with the same delicacy than the weight of his armor fell down shoulders. The man couldn't help close his eyes before the balm that fell over his body like a waterfall. Meanwhile natural wind made his skin react to the cold and warm contact. First Hannibal had to separate one hand, then the other, from Will's body to drop completely the garment, then dragged by the blast of sea air.

Lithuanian's fingers, as always attentive to everything they touched, found the buttons that kept the shirt hugging Will's pale torso. He delivered one to one, making his gaze peculiarly more crystalline than before, as if something contained for long time had spilled over Hannibal's psyche.

"You shook all this inside me and now I feel how you leave me bare, allowing me to be as light as a feather.

Hannibal's gaze rose slowly, intensely, toward the sea-blue eyes, as Will's hands groped his chest wound and his slender neck. His lips were tempted when they ended up fitting in, by millimeters, with Hannibal's flayed and dry ones.

"During our friendship... we have avoided each other... Physical contact wasn't necessary to externalize or explain our relationship..."

Over the skin of his lips, Will noticed the irregularities of Hannibal's wounds caused before.

"All this time, we walked side by side without touching... As if you see in me Jack's fragile porcelain, with the characteristic fear of shattering it." Will continued.

He got to be so sure that even Will feared of breaking and not being able to be who he was. Hannibal... Hannibal Lecter ensured he broke him, destroyed him in different, unthinkable ways until making him unrecognizable.

"You have a part of me... inside you... I died ... and you brought me back ... I walk like Lazarus. What will you do with me when I have no more to offer?"

The distance between two men wasn't changed. Anything could happen, Hannibal was able to do anything, but Will wasn't afraid.

Hannibal listened to Will quietly, feeling how his vibrant words crashed on his own lips, his breathing mingled with his own. Hannibal took its heat from it and made it part of him, as if he breathed small vestiges of his reborn soul.

With a delicate gesture, almost afraid to break his fragile porcelain sculpture, his piece of embodied art, Hannibal's hand stroked Will's bloodless face. His declarations were, in a way, heartwarming, his doubts, trying to explain one future in particular. The elder could only reassure Will's battered spirit, becoming the merciful being who so fervently had hidden under his thick veil, just for him.

"You would end up being part of me in its summit. As I did with Mischa..." Hannibal said so clear and so convinced of that possible fate, that his eyes reflected the greatest gesture of love that could give to Will. But it was an uncertain outcome, which always would have something to offer every day. "It would be our farewell, where I would ensure that your memory and your love remain inside me forever..."

Hannibal's mouth, shaken by his own words, made his eyelids fall by weight, and finally his lips kissed with deference, fingers clutching Will's curly hair and filling him with another life.

Will's decision to tolerate Hannibal was taken at the same time his lips came into contact more bluntly. These had a dry texture, full of irregularities because of his bite. New and yet known, quickly Will responded, assimilating perfectly the male lips on his. That did nothing more to push against the Lithuanian, needing to be part of him.

Contact was broken when, from his crotch, severe pain was present. That... was nicer than Will expected. And his reaction was to look down at Hannibal's collarbone, laughing at his newly acquired taste.

"So I'll always be inside of you... sharing something more than a mere space in life... What if are you who ends up inside me?"

The warm union of two souls culminated in the imminent dusk above the horizon. The sun was hiding, taking its time, until the orange rays lost strength over the silhouettes of two men.

Will was forced to break contact, accompanied by a laugh that was stiffled on his shoulder; Hannibal felt the contagion and smiled widely, but in a very subtle way. He returned to give to Will the shelter between his arms as one of his hands was still doing its velvety journey through his pale skin, his neck and then his back.

"My start would be reflected in the very end. The irony in my own life, being eaten by a loved one as a sign of pure love." The Lithuanian answered, his rapt gaze rose to the semi-darkened sky, where Jupiter lurked with its light and watched them.

Lecter thought about how it should be that glorious moment or if it would come someday; dying before Will or being killed by him.

"Do you think I prefer another end for me, Will?"

In a few moments, both looked the same constellation in a continuous delight of fondling and mutual recognition. Despite how close they were, so far their skins refused a physical contact that didn't found necessary to give meaning to his peculiar relationship. Now it was Will himself, who with some need, rummaged through his velvety skin nothing in particular and everything at once.

"I don't think you are looking for a particular end, I don't even think you're seeking an end in itself."

With calm voice, Will tried to imagine the scenarios that Hannibal contorted in his palace, and licking his lips, went on:

"Neither you wants to be eternal, it would go against your nature... You just collect in your hands what you consider beautiful and contain it as the precious olive oil. Or simply I may not outlive you... and be eternal part of your own being."

Hannibal only thought about the chance to end up being part of Will, how it had to be done with very strict circumstances; otherwise it could not be so and most likely his counterpart was offered before his own flesh would symbolize eternal love.

With eyes fixed on him, Hannibal leaned his forehead against Will's when he used a hand to signal Will to spin his face and see his eyes. Listening to this man was like explaining himself, a total and absolute description of his own psyche. It felt rewarding... He couldn't get tired enough of feeling the rapture of understanding and acceptance.

"And how does that make you feel, Will?"

Garnet irises watched one by one Will's features, expectant and curious at the same time. His fate was so likely uncertain that questions formed in his mind about what Will might feel. Would he assume it like any other form of expression which would be part of or exist suspicion and aversion to his decision?

"How it makes me feel... the idea of being consumed by you or you ending up consumed by me?"

In either case a nice rewarding feeling filled Will's mind. The narcotics plying his cardiovascular system didn't prevent him from thinking his own ideas, but they helped his words to be more fluid and direct.

"I recognize that the idea of keeping a part of you in me is close to romantic. I could say the same about you, but you already have part of me inside. But to give me a dignified and almost poetic end, I'm no scared to finish being part of you in an unorthodox form."

Life slipping through his fingers, being him who Lecter would lead to death. The image that came to Will it was one in which both writhed bodies in uncomfortable positions were brought to exhaustion and irremediable death.

It was idyllic. Will accepting, even cheering, what no other mind would be able to assimilate. There were other ways as symbolic like that, but not with the same outcome.

The vaporous kisses hadn't been evoked for no apparent reason, rather by an intrinsic desire to demonstrate what they wanted. Far from being a banal romantic act or expression of this, Hannibal found that longing as analogous to the idea of being consumed by Will.

"We can carry many demonstrations out without ending in such abrupt end."

Like any being, everything that brought he would rather retain and use as much as he could. The fisherman was that precious treasure in which had put all that resentment expression to reveal what his soul had sheltered.

Lithuanian's hands soon dropped Will's shirt by the same young man's arms, being both equally.

"In this moment I want to be the one who is insido you, Will..."

With his fingers Hannibal stroked bare shoulders, slowly, gently, down to the closing of the trousers.

Will's gaze rested on the elder, flirted with his features, running over with a burdened gaze of meaning. Seduced by his words, his intentions to devour and be devoured, playing with words and imagine such closeness with the same sex. All his scars, some closed and some not, were exposed to the silver moonlight.

"It's more than a wish or a statement of intentions... You know I don't feel that same appetite..." Will said.

However, his own hands didn't stop, seeking the opposite nudity, seeing the beauty in human body. Tastes that were a clear adaptation of Hannibal own wishes, and again another twinge on the points pulled his skin; at first his hand was to ease the pain, but he found much more comforting opening the buttons and put Hannibal's hand on his member, directly on the skin.

"I don't share your appetite but... I begin to understand its charm..."

Finding Will's help made the moment even closer. The aptitude in his eyes and curiosity to experiment with something beyond the mere meaning of sex; both now gave another value according to their complex expression of feelings. They swarmed about Hannibal's chest, making him more devoted.

Hannibal easily found between his fingers the phallus, having followed his hand signals carefully. He knew about the pain Will had to suffer at the time but, in the exchange of glances, he barely manifested interest in it.

Under the dim moonlight and the sound of crashing waves inspired the moment, the intimacy of night embraced them.

"You just need to call to desire..."

His fingers laced up around the semi-erection and, after wetting a thumb with his own tongue, Hannibal pressed against the uncovered glans by the small mutilation. He soon stroked the sensitive skin for appetite.

Hannibal shook Will's body with a mixture of curiosity and excitement, a touch of pain to slightly sink the glans by pressure. In Will's expression of neutrality, corners drew a half smile on his half-opened lips. Continuing the pattern of learning imposed by the psychiatrist, Will mimicked his gestures, going over the Lithuanian's punished torso. Will found in his descent the lower garment.

"It's easy to awaken certain desires... when you know how... and when..."

Will's hands moved like his words emanated slowly, feeling Hannibal's body, opening the buttons that separated him from direct contact. Finally emerging from his trousers and underwear, Lecter's palpitating member. Fondling between his fingers, under Will's watchful eye, he was aware of the rough breathing from his lungs. Increasing desire with every touch, moving his body over the stone seat and making breathing into mist.

Hannibal was pleasant by Will's inclinarion at that moment, how all was prepared in the ideal way, but at no time he imagined this specifical situation would come. There was a possibility in the time in which he considered they'd share the allegory of their end, but not here, not now.

The Lithuanian felt a chill running down his spine at the first, intimate and direct contact of that new beginning, which made him intensify the look on Will. His shoulders relaxed with the mixture of breathing in the air and Hannibal didn't want to waste time nor miss such an important dedication. While the pale fingers made him relive fruition in the skin, his were caressings Will's. The pain was inevitable, perhaps to reinforce the memory of that intimate, cold night. In a slow act, but seemed sudden, Hannibal melted his thin lips with his counterpart, metaphor of appetite, and slowly leant Will over the surface. He soon got rid of his irrelevant trousers as well.

Being focused on Hannibal's phallus took Will by surprise. He was searching and experimenting, playing with his skin as his own; using the moistened fingertips and traveling the entire length of the fleshy body. At the moment Will broke eye contact, wrapped in the created atmosphere, their bodies were found lying and exchanging feelings they could contribute. Hannibal's quiet calm as opposed to the growing need of the fisherman's body, anxiously looking for warm contact.

Sleight of hands were abandoned a few moments to tangle between fingers the Lithuanian's trousers; they did an inevitable descent till the round gluteus and the inevitable connection between Hannibal's body and Will's legs. There, his hands were retained, so sublime touch of that anatomical formation.

"Did you think this would happen at some point? ...I hardly recognize myself..."

The elder's chest swelled for each breath, as if granted pleasure in his member was merged into the blood and this spreaded it over the entire body as a balm. Hannibal expressed it with the sound of breathing, then sighed against his lips kissing. The emotions felt strongly and he only allowed Will to see him a little, for the moment, reflected in the prompt caresses that had marched into Will's thighs, separating them and placing his body between them. Therefore, his clothes also became part of Will's on the floor; then he saw the pale, rough fingers fitting into the skin of the gluteus, getting aroused greatly to the point of causing a series of pulses Will would become witness. He pulled his lip and his eyes observed suggestively.

"I knew it would happen, but not like this... not now." Hannibal confessed, entranced by the admiration of the unexpected moment.

Then, with the characteristic tranquility, Hannibal moistened a couple of fingers, enough to penetrate his rectum without difficulty.

"You feel strange, however you would continue." Lecter sentenced at the time of exploration.

With the mere Hannibal's positioning, wedged between Will's legs and forcing him to open them more, Will suffered a severe jolt in his body. A chill fed by hungry kisses, which Lecter stole. The young man demanded for more, stretching his neck when he saw the elder pulling his lip.

"You're very sure of that... even knowing my tastes..."

Any centimeter of Hannibal's face remained without being looked by Graham, attentive to the gesture, he hastened to join his mouth, helping to dampen the naughty fingers; even without them, Will maintained the connection with Lecter's thin lips, relishing the danger and irony of the situation.

"Strange..."

Neither words nor breath, not even a slightest sound; his body's inside closed around the Lithuanian's fingers. Thereby his first reaction to the clear certainty that had never been explored, Will grabbed roughly Hannibal's neck, finally exhaling.

"...Luckily... My empathy... empathy... can make me be whatever you want..."

Hannibal had no intention of waiting too, hoping his empathy would work at the same speed than Hannibal's body was warming.

From his privileged position, the Lithuanian watched him directly to hazel eyes as he drew a smile on the lips, between satisfaction and pride.

"Your tastes can be transformed to something more concrete... Is your empathy acting now?"

Hannibal didn't mean to insinuate anything, but make Will think about the misleading connotations that did him not to want sex with a man. Being or not the context, Hannibal enjoyed Will accepted any form of expression, and he could make it his own.

His lips melt again when the subtle requests made it obvious and tender, giving him what he wanted. Hannibal knew there was something else why Will was eager to receive, in another hidden area, and Lecter ensured not to touch very deeply, but pressing on the inside of the rectum and sinking his fingers in the direction of the prostate. In addition he wasn't shy to use the thumb to stimulate the same place, massaging the perineum; it would be a matter of time Will reacted to the stimuli.

" Are you worried that only my empathy is pushing me to have sex with you?"

With the desire of being witness of what caused in his body, Graham used one arm to lean on his elbow. A first strange wave caught him completely off guard; in an instant it made all his skin crawl clearly visible. Not only on the dermis, the grip on the Lithuanian's nape became rough, coming to pull his ashen hair.

It urged a silence on the young, only broken by irregularities when exhaling. Will rose his chin pretending to be over Hannibal, pretending he could manage those earthly pleasures and control it as much as Hannibal could. He was very bad at that, because as he lifted his chin, he gave Hannibal the tempted to bite his neck on a silver platter; from his throat he could hear what was a low, baised moan, from what Will pretended to retain a little more, playing hard to get for his now lover.

"Do you think I could... feign... something like this...?"

The Lithuanian squinted, making palpations firmer as his muscles tensed with controlled and exerted force. Will caused these reactions because Hannibal saw in his face the first image of pleasure and it forced him to stay in a position where he needed to apply force. Hannibal found the doors of his own despair when he looked Will in that state, so solemn and at once surrendered.

"No, I do not think so... I just did not know if you were the one who thought so."

Obviously, that thought didn't have to continue etched in his counterpart's mind; Hannibal was making sure to create his own opinion with such work.

One more look was complicit of that fact as he buried it in the intense pleasure. Lithuanian's fingers played inside with greater insistence, spreading the strokes on the prostate wall, as an expert hand of his anatomy. Then Hannibal lashed out with a second action, using his teeth in the protruding area of his Adam's apple. He just caressed before using his lips to moisten the throat skin.

They fell back against the stone bench. Will's back collided, resuming the initial position to the impossibility of maintaining the tension in his own muscles and supporting the weight. It was the full weight of Hannibal exerting a specific and very accurate pressure in the points that should be encouraged, just where Lecter wanted; just where he wanted to take him, an unknown path that led him to flex his knees and shrink toes tightly.

Hips, thighs, his pelvis... Will couldn't stay still, because of the wild pumping blood throughout the body. It beat his chest with the intention of losing control, shaking his chest and Adam's apple to the rhythm imposed by the Lithuanian. Among their bodies he found their organs in contact, but forgotten.

"A new meaning... of being one inside the other..."

Shakily voice and steady hands, Will wrapped his fingers around both erections; not even his most tenacious effort succeeded when he tried to shut his stutters.

Among the Lithuanian's lips, he perceived the vertical movement of Will's throat when he needed to swallow the saliva that was accumulated hopelessly in the mouth. His sighs were heard fencing in and the warmth of his breath nourished Hannibal's skin when he felt it hitting his features. Hannibal's game still maintained the same voracity than his mouth, but it had reached a point where it was stopped.

Will demonstrated, whn hi grabbed Hannibal's member, the other possible intention urging him to take over that body part. His eyes peered over his features to afford to see his lover mask of fruition, wondering if he also wore it in those moments when they looked at.

"Our dilection is finally consummated..."

Not by knowing the initial idea of apparent impediments, but the feeling was strikingly similar.

Hannibal moved the hands away from Will's rectum to use his elbows as support over the surface, on the sides of the body he had underneath, allowing only a moment of peace, at the moment when Will was preparing him with his fingers and lubricating himself with another layer of saliva.

If Will stopped a few seconds to think calmly where their actions were carrying them, surely he would stop, frozen by the terror that may feel. But Hannibal... Hannibal was an expert at making him see the best of everything he did, and when the time came to share nudity and privacy, Graham dedicated himself with every breath. Every stroke, every touch of their bodies, the inside of his thighs moving against Lithuanian's hips.

"You speak about culminate... and I see ourselves contorting... over a blood mattress... finding something not even I thought I wanted..."

From Will's juicy lips, a soft moan broke free because of the presence of the long limbs inside him. Will felt it growing between his hands, palpitating, even spilling some pre-cum. Soon it was over Will's phallus, spreading the fluid like lubricant.

"I can't promise I won't scream..." In imagining the scene, Will began to breathe with great intensity, showing a nervous smile... and excited. "...I may want to scream... I may need to scream from long ago..."

"You will want many things. After this you will need them."

Hannibal's answers could hardly be as serene as always; his body betraying him with subtle gasps that were awakened by strange hands and sensations that had never been so intense. He recolocated himself astride the bench, between the fisherman's strong legs. Hannibal had to straighten up, beholding him from his new and compelling perspective, giving him more mobility privileges over Will.

"...I want you to scream."

More than a order, ot was a desire Hannibal wanted to see fulfilled for their satisfaction.

Hannibal took oxygen and his gaze lost in the other when his phallus opened its way into the burning flesh slow enough, seeing the change in his expression. Slowly Lecter leaned over Graham's body, not without holding his hands before and placing them up to his head. Face to face with his counterpart, Hannibal gave him new words:

"Liberate yourself from all you have accumulated, Will."

And he lunged for the first time without a moment he wanted to look away.

Neither cold nor stone, nor the tingling that increased intensely in Will's belly made him stay away from Hannibal and that bench. With the same leisurely pace and the gaze on the other, Graham couldn't cope with it, his blue orbs going back and forth. His face, his eyes went down Hannibal's body and ran into his erection, ready to... His eyes widened when he was invaded for the first time, his body tried to reject it, closing the muscles around the swollen phallus.

"Don't think... it will be so..."

Cursed and miserable Hannibal, he knew when to enter him completely. Submission and dominance, Hannibal wanted to see him under his surrendered body by pleasure, contorting and pleading.

His column curled, attached to Lithuanian's male torso; his body taken from a classical Roman work, making a show of his strength to hold him with apparent ease. Will gritted his teeth in a wolfish fierceness sign, trapping him between his fingers when they laced around the psychiatrist.

"You will... hear... But..." Neither of them withdrew or close their eyes as provocation or means of feeding the hunger they felt for each other, or the voracity over the rest. "...I have no intention of being... a easy... prey..."

Words that was losing part of its energy, being pronounced with that shortness of breath and contorted face.

Hannibal's fingers reasserted between pale ones enough to not break the contact easily. Apparently the older only showed pleasure in his eyes or the intensity of his breathing, but the emanated sweat added to the list in an indirect way, as Will did.

"No... I do not expect you to be so." Hannibal emitted his words against Will's lips, finding a little more complicated to speak with the same fluency and moderation that characterized him.

Biceps tightened at the earliest time that Hannibal's member was increasingly trapped inside the burning skin; gluteus reacted the same way when he started the second attack. It was hard not to feel an interest in him, to wait any defense reaction by Graham. When he was contemplating his imbued features with suspicion and delight, the Lithuanian felt a warm stream crossing the spine, urging him to attack against Will's pelvis and receiving another discharge that returned him to push forward, as a cyclical system.

"Do you feel you possess other options now...?" Lecter asked in reference to Will's 'prey' situation. A situation in which Will had clear disadvantage once he allowed to be caught, however Hannibal was curious about how he would unfold in a situation in which he was handing over Will all the best of himself.

Graham smiled when he discovered Hannibal's inability to make his words as calm as the usual state with which Hannibal delighted everyone when he spoke. He dared to delve into his eyes, trying to read what they could tell, seeing the obvious. A man enjoying each thrust that took him back into Will. And as much as he made efforts, his dilated pupils made blue eyes disappear like an undeniable pleasure.

"Option? They aren't op...tions. It's like sleeping... with... with... a starving lion. And me being a lamb...

Every obligatory pause, every time when Hannibal entered fully into him, sharing with Will a soft sigh, a ragged breath, a furtive glance.

Lecter possessed him, his whole body, controlling when he could breath, when he could enjoy. Plucking the succulent subtle gestures from the fisherman's mouth; a smile, a soft purr to end up delighting the Lithuanian with his sensual side. As a poem for his eyes, Will contracted himself at the moment when Hannibal's phallus was moving off and returning at the same time... Seductive, Will moaned, lifting his chin and allowing the pleasure of hold his affected gaze. He didn't intended to deceive or despise what Hannibal offered.

"You... you were right..."

Inevitably, Lecter was reacting to the same physical stimuli that his counterpart; his pupils dilated for the mere pleasure of being inside Will and observing him with the same and unequivocal gesture. At that moment Will was who tasted his skin, his cherished meat; it reiterated in the primitive and literal way of belonging within his body. It was the honor he handed to his lover after the successive signs of trust ... and permanent union.

Hannibal exhaled the air from his lungs, numbed by the delightful vision that allowed him to see, Will's transparency and the undeniable truth that received his phallus.

"Can you now understand the ecstasy that I experienced when I took that part of you...?" Hannibal asked when his fingers clenched Will's hands, reaffirming the grip to prevent that every attack slid his back across the wood surface. "...I want you to feel the same sensation, in the instant you take over something mine."

Muscles tensed; Hannibal sighed again to contain the pleasure in his throat, but his coppery eyes didn't express it, which was more eminent. His pelvis accelerated as a necessity, and violently beat Will, wanting to merge with his body as if he did it with his teeth and ripped him. And it was very important that his counterpart visualized the image as well.

A mutual and reciprocal grip, Will barely felt the tip of his fingers, lost entirely in his eyes that, like a lion devouring its prey, didn't look away from the juicy meat.

Will nodded erratically, overlapping sighs with an occasional syrupy 'please'. He understood what it meant to Hannibal, or it was more like sharing his feeling. The communication through words was replaced by the exquisite concert of their voices and moans; Lecter, the director guiding his instruments, a piece perfectly interpreted, where their voices were rising above the own sound of the sea. What Poseidon had to be jealous of being unable to outpace the two men with his waves breaking!

"I see, I see!"

From his mouth as sweet honey, Will ever tried to answer and make himself understood, his ankles crossed behind the Lithuanian's hips, preventing any attempt to escape.

Few moments in which Hannibal shook the smaller body under his abusive penetration, attracted by the lower extremities in an endless exchange of glances, of friction between his parched lips; until the precise moment that Graham was surrendered. He contracted the toes sharply, arching the spine and giving in to undeniable homosexual pleasure he had denied... Savoring his man, pronouncing each syllable when falling in orgasm. Wille had delivered his best moments, the worst, and now the greatest moment of carnal ecstasy.

All of a sudden, it couldn't stand out who was imprisoning whom; immobilization and retention was mutual in which no one didn't want the escape and abandonment from the other. Understanding what sex supposed to be. an affective metaphorically cannibal act, neither he knew who was for whom.

Hannibal listened, his music recited, marked compass, with regular and firm shakes of a director. All that came through his ears, his eyes, his skin, mouth and nose... Achieving perfect harmony with each sensitive senses, Will caught his full attention in a physical level that guided him to the abstraction of the moment.

The storm surge's roar, perhaps that god trying to overwhelm them, was nothing more than an indication, the postlude of a work in which Hannibal was forced, unable to contain such an excessive rapture, to participate with his voice, accompanying Will.

Hannibal's fingers were contracted by the force that hit Will with all the power of an animal. It came as an explosion, refrained by the sudden narrowness of his lover, seeming he protected the same universe of his violent elevation.

He panted with all his strength, his eyes full of arche, contemplating the originator, his vulnerability made flesh and now consumed him. Will emptied him until leaving him without a part of him, forever inside.

As bright as the satellite, Hannibal's eyes expressed with the same aquatic form the ocean and the man seemed to lose any barrier.

"... Am I yours now, Will?" Hardly breathing, his limbs still shaking and balance disturbed by a exchange signed with the devil, Hannibal asked without really knowing.

Everything became confused and hasty, possessive with the Lithuanian's trapped body, holding him between his legs and refusing to release him, not even to come out from inside.

His drenched body in sweat, burning, Will was covered by the consequences of his own achieved pleasure; and from his inside... he felt the Lecter's presence, as if now he was part of him. Wherever he went and wherever he was, Will would always carried Hannibal inside him, in such a literal and spiritual form, unattainable for any other.

"Míne...?" Will whispered, wetting his chapped, punished lips by uncontrolled moans, reaching the sky with his voice.

"You're mine in such a radical and warped way that I couldn't even express it without being vulgar." Will hesitated a few seconds when his neck rose, ending up to touch Hannibal's forehead with the edge of his lips, only caressing with his own incipient beard. Like a nature scene, like two big male cats; delicate friction between two males, recognizing each other.

At last it came the moment he allowed breaking eye contact, the Lithuanian's eyes closing at the soft and subtle touch that contrasted with the previous frankness. Will's words internalized in his mind, like the acceptance of his purest, sincere self.

Slowly Hannibal released his fingers from the place they had been engaged; they made a delicate tour of Will's outline of his arms till he stopped on his biceps. Against his lips, Hannibal enjoyed the texture of their breathing, their lips and hair, forming a pleasant tingling. Everything was felt at that moment to the millimeter, as if he was trying to memorize every second they shared to preserve it in his memory palace. Hannibal didn't dare to anchor again on Will's lips, believing it might spoil the work. So he simply kept the caresses that initially Will imposed; two lions attitude showing more than the aggressiveness of their roars.

His cheek slid on the other one until Hannibal ended up to put an ear on Will's chest. Calm breathing and heart pumping blood to every corner of the body. He felt inside, his very essence circulating and feeding his counterpart's body. And again Hannibal suffered the consequences of his imagination.

"I am yours in the same way that you are mine..." Lecter murmured, soaked with the substance that caused such rapture; his hands had to repeat the course again, to Will's hands, as if he were the blood that was running in Will's arteries.

He was lucky enough to see Hannibal outside his usual way, to see through the veil, to cross it and sit beside him. And like the first time, unarmored, such a literal way like the nakedness of their bodies. Will's fingertips made the same journey, wanting to slide on Hannibal, drawing his body in a mental canvas, treasuring in his newly built memory palace the textures and that time shared with Hannibal. Rooms shared with Lecter, where he helped to build; part of his own belonged to the Lithuanian. A place where he would always find him.

"We could be in the same room in which the profane would ignore such detail... but we'd feel it... I would feel it... I could notice you travelling inside me."

They were there again, Hannibal's fingers on Will's wrists, but this time Graham found the contact between his hands, moving his with those that cut short many lives.

"Likewise... Then you should let me make this reciprocal..." Will said.

Being inside Hannibal, such a literal and intimate way. His curiosity soared when Will imagined how it would be like to possess Hannibal's body.

The Lithuanian's senses only seemed to respond to the most elementary sensations, by appreciating what his senses colllected as information in a continuous pleasure, internalizing it, but without understanding it. The Will's hands softness allowed Hannibal to seclude himself. Waves sometimes matching the rhythm of their palpitations, their views, the taste of his mouth and the smell of the sea and sweat... He couldn't ask a lot, although admit his partner's requests.

"Inside Me..." Hannibal breathed as if he had found the way to his light.

In that moment Hannibal sat up again with light breath, releasing from Will's inside.

It could be again under his own rules.

His eyes scrutinized Will's desires in the same reflection, trying to figure out how he imagined.

"Is that your desire, Will?"

The Lithuanian's expression mingled with serenity and anguish of the future time, drawing a line across Will's vision that blinded him with pleasure of seeing beyond, even more than the first time.

Hannibal released Will's hands and wrapped his thighs to initiate the change in perspective. He made his own feet touch the ground and carefully, Lecter showed his intentions to take his new place on Will's lap and enclose his phallus between the gluteus.

Reciprocity in a relationship in which Hannibal always wanted to be as equal as Will and, as such, he understood that was another way of expressing it, being inside and feeling. Stroking his body while his limbs swirled around the Lithuanian with a boyish look on his rictus. Because something that was very present in Graham's mind was that Lecter would never, never lose control of any of the acts in which he participate.

And so Will saw what Hannibals was orchestrating again, now taking place on him astride, allowing the fisherman's hands ascend over his skin, stopping halfway to sink his fingers on Hannibal's thigh.

A guttural, dry roar externalized when Hannibal was penetrated. Then Will exclaimed:

"That was very... sudden!"

And painful. That wasn't expected, he couldn't dominate it; not even Will was close to doing so. Even inside Hannibal, Will was more vulnerable than before.

Will separated the back from the bank, rising to be perpendicular in front of Lecter, stuck to Hannibal's chest. He soon claimed slow movements, in which Will told him the right speed, slower and relaxed. Will was lost in this new sense of intrusion, seeing himself inside the Lithuanian, almost feeling the pulses on his organ that constrained it. He barely separated the front of Hannibal's chest, almost under his chin.

"You're... warm... cozy..."

Letting Will enter didn't supposed Hannibal's submission, but a gift full of intrinsic meaning. A dark place replete with retained emotions and muted desires; however his counterpart assumed that consequence. Hannibal imagined this moments in a notebook sketch, the metaphor of a pathfinder that penetrated deep into him to find more than what had been delivered. In his view he was greedy and didn't blame Will on wanting to posses more wealth of his lover.

Then taking advantage of the Will's initial erection, Hannibal allowed to be penetrated simply. Being slow more for himself than for his counterpart, it didn't involve an effort to adjust himself to the width. Hannibal took a silent sigh, stopping the first moment to savor the warm, prominent phallus throbbing against his prostate.

A tingling ran through his limbs and let Will face him, having to embrace Will's shoulders with an arm; staying together and more united than before if it was possible.

"I'm feeling you... Your blood sating my hunger." Hannibal said.

The Lithuanian's gaze scrutinized on the other's one that little irrigation of pain because of his mutilation, at the slightest blood soon would emerge. Still unhealed, he knew how it would end so delicate scar.

Hannibal wrapped his fingers around Will's shoulder and the other hand held his nape to make him stuck his forehead to him; there was no reason to show the delicacy of beginning and Hannibal initiated the first swing that would make them sigh in a mixture of sensations.

The delicacy shown before faced the wolfish hunger that corroded the fisherman, in an exchange of possessives grips. Scratches on the Lithuanian's back soon appeared, his back was scored by the young's fingernails when he pulled him against his waist.

A measured swinging paced by vertiginous breaths, violence soon appeared as a language shared and understood by the lovers.

"I feel like I am... spilling." Will's voice, swaying between pain and pleasure, anger expressed with nibbles were happening between furtive glances full of intentions.

Will lifted his damaged gaze by circumstances, seeking to bite Hannibal's chin, soaking with warm gasps his nearest skin. An impulse to tear himself inside him and his blood ending in Lecter's bloodstream.

The older's back was contorting with every rough touch that was made with nails, a sign of Will's desire to be devoured and Hannibal's torso stucked, attracted, to the other's seeking to fulfill their needs.

Sweat that emanated from his pores didn't help the fastening that kept them in that position, but it facilitated friction, which was more beneficial to the Lithuanian. Hannibal's member was pressed and stroked between the two torsos, assuring another point of pleasure as he was hit with Will's fleshy part, choking the rectum. However, in seconds, penetrations turned faster when the crimson liquid, Will's bleeding, lubricated them. Hannibal couldn't help a throaty sigh, fueled by the fantasy of making Will his own, in so intimate and beautiful way.

"And therefore you are mine again, Will..." Hannibal gasped, tangling his fingers in Will's hair which he abruptly pulled back to give him the bite marks on his chin and in any area he wanted; his eyes at any time separated from the blue ones, capturing the glow of pleasure and pain thanks to the moon.

"I'm still guiding you in my darkness." Hannibal assured, marking violently the pace he liked in his phallus, ignoring the possible Graham's pain and feeding on what he gave him while Hannibal was making use of the right strength from his legs. "...Do you still want to find my heart?"

Poor and stupid Graham, believing he would enjoy control over Hannibal. Even under this change of roles, Will didn't feel so subjected as that moment.

Both bodies were shaken under the same pace, in a wild dance where everyone was looking for the other's submission. Lecter, skewered again and again, moving his waist on the fisherman's generous phallus; Will was subject to Hannibal's demands in a delicious mixture of pain and pleasure. Feelings that often worked in hand.

"No no no..."

Will was barely able to construct a coherent sentence, feeling his skin bieng torn inside the Lithuanian, his blood flowing inside to join the psychiatrist's bloodstream. The idea of being part of Hannibal made him grunting, panting, so what? At that time he had killed for him, the animal desire that drunk him was of such intensity that he didnt feel himself like a human.

Adam's apple exposed, Will wanted to bite him, to be bitten, to end up covered with wounds and his blood.

"I've already... found it..." Will dared utter with a little smile while his fingers descended down Hannibal's sides, leaving behind a trail of nail marks, decorated with bright crimson and illuminated by the moonlight.

It was in the gluteus where he anchored, helping the rapid pace established by Hannibal.

Lithuanian savored it, blood on his lips without literally tasted a drop. Will was lost in a mixture of sensations, as if his throat were cut with Hannibal's teeth and at the same time Will thanked for being the sacrifice in which he could reach the depths of Hannibal's being.

Hannibal didn't lose the strength that seemed to come from nowhere, driven by the desire to enjoy such exquisite skin inside his body; therefore he panted, looking for the oxygen that would make him reach the zenith of the most decisive act of pure love Will deserved. Graham was offered himself with intense desire to get lost within his dark and it was legitimate to honor Will's bravery.

The Lithuanian felt the heat and the smell of blood, the point of no return where his body would give all or nothing at all.

"Will..." He whispered his name when he felt surrounding the fleshy body forcefully between the walls of his inside, when sensations piled up in his nervous system.

The grip he had exerted on his lover became more abusive and nails, as Hannibal felt Will's one sinking as well, fit in the muscles of his neck. Abruptly Hannibal forced him to lie on the bench so Will could contemplase him rising over his body again and again, as if he was merging with the night sky at the expense of his soul.

"I can see you with me... at last."

And eye contact broke in the instant ecstasy invaded; his coppery eyes, expressing sublimity, rose and looked for a place on the surface of the satellite where he could immortalize the moment so, each time he observed, he could recall Will's essence, at least inside him in all his glory, forever.

It wasn't easy to Hannibal lying Will on the bench. He scratched his thighs while Lecter pushed him unceremoniously from his chest; throwing the last shoves, even pushing the doctor with his pelvis to lift him slightly.

A moment of maximum liberation, a moment in which Will was lost in fantasy. The glorious orgasmic sensation went through his body; it was bathed by Hannibal's warm fluids, where Will saw himself splashed by his blood, gushing out from his throat. A moment of maximum pleasure, pain wasn't there; it was part of the moment.

Fantasizing about Lecter dying, melted by his phallus, recurred in his mind over and over again, until collapsing on the surface, trapping the older man by the back of his knees and preventing any movement that could get Hannibal away from him.

Rapid breathing and an increasingly calm glance, which gradually showed his narrowed blue eyes due to renewed pain in his open wound.

Along with the thrill of his limbs, Hannibal was presented with the latter substance that Will could bring to the fullness of his ecstasy. Semen, perceived it as the second blood, the second way in which he could take his lover with him.

Now the starry dome watched them with its millions of eyes and the gaze of the moon, wondering what would become of them.

Hannibal's lips half opened, exhausted, and looked at his counterpart as an empty shell, which he couldn't get anything else. Their love consolidated and the last peak memory couldn't be clouded with the tedious routine.

"My heart opened, at least you could read its lines... The love that I have for you."

His serious and slurred by fatigue words resembled the fingers that slowly returned to the place around Will's neck. Hands, that had previously been used to give life, now were about to do the opposite. As the praying mantis after mating, the male is devoured with maximum consent; Hannibal expected Will'd do the same.

Lecter's gesture changed completely, expressionless, when he caught his neck with rude force, still disinterested in literally take his life. Hannibal rose on his legs, releasing Will's phallus and erasing any delicate trace in that aspect. Hannibal dragged Will across the wooden surface to drop him on the ground with an almost superhuman force, on the way to the cliff, allowing the stones and earth to help him and drag Will to the edge.

One second, one second of peace before being strangled, Hannibal didn't intende to stifle him but keep him under control. Dragged on the stone floor, Will's skin was damaged by being treated like an animal and carried across the ground.

"HANN...!"

Will kicking on the ground, the sound of the waves breaking against the rocks of the cliff seemed to cause the instincts of both men.

As two Spartans, naked and covered with their fluids, Graham squirmed to grab Hannibal. Grunts under the moonlight, hits and shoves near the edge of the cliff. Now it seemed that Poseidon laughed at them, causing terrifying waves under their feet, making impossible any attempt to survive the fall.

"Your expectations won't be achieved..."

A foot was leant out the edge and Will hurried to grab Hannibal by his neck and bring him closer.

"I have no intention... of going alone..."

Thanks to Hannibal, fear wasn't an option, doubt either, despite the great feeling of vertigo and the certainty of death.

"Are you afraid?" Will continued speaking.

On that occasion was Lecter who prevented him from falling; the fisherman was tempted to pulling him to space.

It was necessary an end for so inconvenient relationship, once the feeling became so intense that it became uncontrollable. Hannibal professed a deep love for this man, unimaginable, like seeing him as more than a piece of meat to be cooked. Will had become a completely equal when he allowed him to enter into his soul, let him look out and leave his mark with the reciprocity of their actions. Lecter couldn't admit it for a second time, never again finding the rapture of owning something he already had. What would the purpose be in keeping an empty vessel? Therefore, the perfect way to end was to deliver his counterpart to his place, into the abyss of the ocean, his physical body with substance; his soul inside the darkness of the intelligible destroyer. Everything in its perfect and corresponding origin. How naive to believe Will would assume his role with the same disposition when he wanted to go into Hannibal's being.

Hannibal was forced to hold Will's neck, kneeling down to make the task of accompanying him harder. Still, his body, transmitting the pleasant warmth, remained close without accepting the longing.

Fear? Will made him consider, knowing that it could be manipulation. Effective when it came to internal emotions, an unknown and messy place in Hannibal's psyche, where he was disorienting due to eternal logic that reigned his mind. The minimum sentiment could shake even the strongest foundations of his rational system and Hannibal feared that Will could take advantage of what he didn't know to cataloge inside him.

"Why do you think I would be afraid?" Hannibal asked when he asserted his fingers, slowly pushing Will to the edge of the cliff, just a few centimeters, while small shards fell because of Will's kicking of legs. "Do you think that persuasion will save you from what you are now determined? The ocean, its depth... Listen how it whispers, Will, and invites you to join like the peace that reminds you of the stream."

Hands were progressively locking the neck up, Lecter was convinced that he would take Will's life before hearing his manipulations or trying to drag him to space with him.

How could Will be so stupid to lower his guard so much? Hannibal had caught him completely off guard, with the memory of his hands on his own body, going around every centimeter of the skin. In an eternal debate about what Will felt for this man... Love? Friendship? It didn't matter, because Hannibal was the only one able to understand him, to offer a hand when the rest was barely aware of what was under his armor. In his warped form and depraved vision of life, Hannibal Lecter had saved him from himself in fire and blood.

"..."

His gaze calmed down, even near to death, a horrible death. Peace intoxicated the young man, changing his rictus and actions; his sharply clasped hands now became caresses on Hannibal's skin, which eventually ended up letting him go and be completely lying down the cliff, only with the psychiatrist's fastening.

"..."

Slowly Will was showing his palms, not a way of surrender, but as a sacrifice. Would Hannibal need a sacrifice? He transmitted peace to the Lithuanian's coppery glance, before closing his eyes and being swept along by the stream.

"Once... you told me you didn't want a sacrifice... a time when lies were part of our relationship... It isn't necessary anymore... Do you need it, Hannibal? How many of your victims have been offered themselves to you so willingly?"

A few seconds of emptiness in Hannibal's mind, looking at Will and tranquility with which he seemed to assume his destiny. Under his fingers he could feel the flow of blood pumping through the arteries; he shuddered with the idea that a part of him flowed inside that empty place. The grip was losing strength around the neck, but Hannibal still claimed the young man's body remained in that arranged limbo by Hannibal. The Lithuanian's expression softened somewhat sourly, as if he weren't able to admit his weakness; Will was everything that made any rational act, his philosophy, fall apart completely and betray himself. One had been support to the other, understanding and affection, in its ultimate meaning. The imposition of Hannibal's wishes in each of the aspects that defined Will had come to an end; now the fisherman demanded his compassionate side, over Hannibal's devastating side.

"..."

'Victim'; it made him reconsider his actions, shaken by the awakened compassion. Changing the way he communicated to obtain a expected response.

Hannibal took a few seconds to release Will completely, freeing him from his limbs.

"You're not a victim, Will" Hannibal replied with rectification as he remained undaunted, waiting his lover's dedication of his own volition. "I've given you my best... Would you give me the best of you?"

Hannibal didn't need to force Will's end, because he would jump into the void by himself to declare his liberation, his will and love he said he was feeling for him.

Still in his hands, Will managed to relax his breathing, which a few moments was quickened. Hannibal's tests, always seeking the utmost confidence; he claimed that he wasn't a god, but demanded the same tributes. Unshakable faith, faithfulness... It all happened in a second, as if time itself stopped to give him the last moments of life.

How much more would he have to offer? How much more would he have to sacrifice?

As a slab of large tonnage it was deathly quiet, being a heavy sigh emanated from Will's lips the only sound he could grasp. Hannibal wasn't a religious man, or at least he didn't considered a believer, or Will considered that he didn't pray to the same god; but he was there, like Abraham, and he had to make a decision.

"For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that everyone who believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life." Will said.

Will closed his eyes and tilted his head back slightly, from Hannibal's fingers he was sneaking out, and slowly his body was tilting towards the edge.

Hannibal would have only a second to make the decision and stop the fall or watch him die. Meanwhile, Will handed him his most precious possession: his own life.

The Lithuanian could see how the skin he stopped touching for a second slid from his fingertips, so slowly that for a moment thought time had stopped to consider both options.

Will, when he let himself fall, showed the eternal fidelity he professed to Hannibal, like Abraham to his God. His words came to transmit, to get much more than the silence of his actions. Hannibal, hoping that his counterpart would dive into the void in a dedication signal, received the most precious gift. It was now when he wondered if divine providence would make an appearance to stop irreversible damage.

There was a time in his past when an angel should have stopped Mischa's sacrifice; that god, from who learned so much in the Bible, showed his absence when he allowed his sister's head rolled through the courtyard of his castle. Loyal to the unequivocal proof of his unreality, Hannibal could let Will die, showing that there was no god to stop the suffering of believers; or he could be that providence, the redemptive hand, and become the glory of the angelic savior, messenger and witness of the fidelity and fear of his power.

In the last instant, Hannibal reached out to Will and held him when his feet had lost contact with the surface. He had to muster all strength to avoid being drawn into the void. Kneeling on the floor and using a rock anchored to the edge as a fulcrum, Hannibal managed to stop the fall; unfortunately the older man wasn't in the best conditions to really save him.

"Now I know you believe in me as much as I believe in you... " Hannibal expressed with some stifling sensation, looking out from the cliff and clutching Will's wrist, but his efforts to lift him were complicated because of the unstable support among the edge. "Don't let go of my hand, Will."

The fisherman's fall was violently stopped, shaken against the cliff sharp face, where the sharp stones as knives tore the young man's skin. From a great peace and calm dream Will awoke with accelerated heart swiftly, looking for the grip on Hannibal's wrist.

"Fuck! You did it!"

Graham was convinced Lecter would let him fall; it fit in his thoughts because he wouldn't die entirely. He would live in him until the end of his days and as he always had wanted; Hannibal only would possess Will.

"No... not now..." Will added.

The fisherman's left hand, accustomed to extreme work, looked hurt and cut. The stone sank into his body and salt contact was really painful. He used all his limbs to try to climb that treacherous wall, Will's hands and feet were seen struggling to emerge unharmed. The blood made it more slippery, and his ascent seemed slow and complicated.

"Don't fall... Don't... let go of me..."

His body rose over the edge, and there was his executioner and savior, pulling him or at least holding him to not let him fall. The same hand with which he clung to the ground, slipped and clawed the ground, losing a few centimeters that he took.

"HANNIBAL!"

If he succeeded, his body would be a Picasso painting covered with scars and Hannibal's memory.

Like throwing a coin into the air and waiting for a result, although it couldn't be said Hannibal had left Will's the fate to chance that night. Mischa's memory, painful and treacherous, really made him ruminate about her insufferable absence and how, even having her inside him, missed the tangible part of what was once her essence. For a moment he lived convinced Graham was to receive a dignified end, completing his story in his arms and disappear, as if he no longer had more to offer. But lonesomeness doesn't disappear in that way. Was there a possibility that he wasn't to be part of the heartbreaking memory? He had imagined Will, accompanied by Mischa, Abigail... There were reasons to be a heretic, tolerant and flexible to continue seeing that recomposed teacup another day.

With his remaining strength and with the help he received from the other side, they could gain ground to gravity together, at least at first. When Will slipped, Hannibal roared because of the overexertion that exerted as a last resort to help Will to emerge from the cliff. Will's bloodstained and bruised body, decorated with reminiscence of love and fidelity, finally found safe on earth; Lecter then grasped his armpits and moved him closer, finally freeing him from the agonizing fall.

"You... you have me finally..." Hannibal gasped with horrific force, as he gave him a place of support among his numb arms.

Silently, the Lithuanian watched him satisfied to keep him at his side, as a piece of pure art, living and changing.

Dirty and bloodstained, like a newborn, Will emerged from the darkness covered with blood and dirt, rising above his own descent into hell. He had no strength to stand, they didn't had a second to rest since both devoted themselves in to the pleasure and company. Even at the time of abandonment his body was struggling to live.

When Will saw himself on solid ground, his muscles relaxed, and all the weight of events fell on his shoulders; the weight like lead of the younger man fell then on Hannibal. He wasn't ashamed when he sought to cling to him, like a rock that would prevent falling again to the depths of hell, despite the same rock was which demanded the sacrifice.

Will's heart pounding, pounding inside his chest with the speed of a little animal, expelling the heat of his lungs like nervous and fogging gasps.

"You... didn't need... another sacrifice... no..."

On Hannibal's chest, blue eyes lost in the horizon and was sure he could see Poseidon claiming his piece.

It seemed Will's heat, the essence of substance that formed his body, filled Hannibal with force even in that instant where none could barely breathe. His heart was pounding too fast due to overexertion and was sure that his counterpart could feel the vehemence with which he distributed oxygen throughout his body in desperated beats. His breathing was concealed when his lips and nose were sheltered in dark curls, smelling the aroma and softness on such sensitive areas.

"You... you made sure it wasn't necessary..."

Hannibal took a deep breath strongly to finish the sentence, clinging to Will's humanity symbol, empathy that made him feel understood and never judged by the loved one.

Because of Will's touching, Hannibal could feel the heat and humidity of the body, the smell of blood and how it decorated him with crimson.

"We need... each other."

It wasn't the first time Will made him act so violently, intense and compassionate at the same time, passing through many stages in such a short time. Somehow, fate and circumstances ended up intertwining, uniting them both in a single shared path; the balance was balanced by itself and two men returned to walk over the rope, but no longer to shove one another into the void.

"I want you to stay with me, Will..."

Throat burned like fire, cold air seared the trachea. He hadn't realized until that moment in wich the temperature was undergoing a change. Such was the reaction of Will's body that, from his skin and throughout his body, fogging vapors emanated. A very rarity of those who maintain a high body temperature or those who were under stress; Will Graham was a clear example on both sides. The younger man curled up in the Lithuanian's arms, panting like a dog who had just beat and the only consolation that found was the master's legs.

"But you had choice... You could... You could shatter the remaining teacup to pieces... or forget it...

Again he returned to save him from the outstanding issues. Will had so internalized the Hannibal's tastes and interests, he knew that, at the time this changed, his usefulness would be called into question. Will hoped he had any idea for that day, but even he didn't know what he would do. Possibly he would be swept along and try to drag Lecter into the abyss with him.

"I'm not a substitute... I can't be your sister..."

The embrace finally consolidated. There weren't more interest than the closeness without expecting something from other.

Hannibal's eyes crossed the night horizon in a uniform way in which he tried to find a way for both, hand in hand. Only time would tell to them if circumstances would return to bring them face to face, not knowing whether to join them or separate them. Was there really an assurance that something like that would threaten?

Hannibal dropped his eyelids, wrapped in the warm aura conveyed by his lover; the breeze cooling their bodies, but without feeling the heat diminished.

"No, you can't be her..." Hannibal assured, always keeping a special place for Will, something beyond fraternal love. His sister's tortuous absence had made him learn to be alone. Then Graham came and made him unlearn to end up finding himself again in the past, loneliness haunting him and a missed opportunity. Although Hannibal connected both, although Hannibal saw them together, it didn't represent a replacement, not even the same feeling. It was only the level of affection to them that Hannibal gave them and then received selflessly.

"...Your departure to abyss would have created a second vacuum in me."

And so Hannibal may need to seek the replacement for Will, again to repeat the process twice. Was Will starting to be aware of the degree of importance where he had risen?

"Keep the memory of this moment, Will. At last we walk together."

 


End file.
